Her brows lifted. "Bad?"
"No," I said. "Good. The best."
We sat on the velvet sofa, me in the middle, kids crawling all over me, Inga curling into my side. I took a breath. "I resigned."
Inga blinked. "You… what?"
"Honorable discharge," I said. "I'm done. No more Berlin. No more airlift. No more OPC breathing down my neck."
Inga just stared at me like she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.
"So… what does that mean for us?" she whispered.
I smiled slowly.
"It means," I said, "we're going home."
"Home?" Klaus asked, bright-eyed.
"Montana," I said. "We're going to the ranch. Fresh air. Space to run. Clean water. Real food. And a family waiting to meet you. And the best part?" I winked at the kids, "Have you ever ridden a horse?"
Inga's lips parted. "Gideon…"
"And," I added, turning to her fully, "we're going to surprise my parents. We'll have the wedding under the Montana sky. The way it should be."
She covered her mouth; her eyes flooded immediately.
"Oh," she whispered. "Oh, Gideon…"
The kids started cheering, shrieking, and bouncing on cushions.
"RANCH!"
"COWS!"
"HORSES!"
"FLYING WITH GIDEON!" Klaus cried.
I laughed so hard my ribs hurt. God, it felt good.
"Before we leave," I said, wiping my eyes, "we need supplies. Warm coats. Mountain boots. Travel trunks. You'll need gear for cold nights, for hiking. The kids'll need heavier clothes—Montana winters aren't kind. And you—" I tilted Inga's chin and kissed her forehead. "You're gonna need a wedding dress."
Her breath broke.
"I… I've never…" She shook her head, overwhelmed. "You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything," I said.
She threw her arms around me, and I held her tight, feeling her whole world trembling with relief and hope.
We were halfway through planning what to buy when a knock sounded on the door.
Sharp. Cold. Wrong.
I felt the dragon stir before I even turned. I opened the door just enough to see him: A Soviet messenger in civilian clothing, his posture as stiff as could be expected, his eyes cold and flat, like there was not a single thought in there that was his own. He extended a sealed envelope.
"Captain Griffin," he said. "I am here at the request of Herrn Weber. He demands the immediate return of his son, Klaus Weber, into Soviet custody."
